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Engaged By Wednesday 

A Farce in Three Acts 



By 
GRACE ARLINGTON OWEN 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1912 



Engaged By Wednesday 



CHARACTERS 



Martin Henry, ^/le laziest man in the county. 

Arthur Watson. 

Jack, 1 

Ted, \ friends of Arthur s. 

Dick. ) 

Miss Abigail Persons, a woman of ideas, 

Mrs. Watson, a gentle person. 

LuciLE Persons. 

Marie, | 

Jane, \ friends of Lucile. 

Mabel. J 

Mary, Ma?'tin Henry s atint ; cook at the Persons*, 

First Girl. 

Second Girl. 

First Gypsy. 

Second Gypsy. 

A large number of girls and young men. 

The time is the present, and the community that of any college 
town in the middle west. 




Copyright, 191 2, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 
TMP96-00 7 5i4 

SCLD 31128 



Engaged By Wednesday 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The lawn between the Persons' and the Watsons' 
houses. A settee stands at l. , anything rustic and appro- 
priate. 

Enter Miss Abigail Persons, r. 

Miss P. (^speaking to some o?ie out of vieiv of audience^. 
Mary, Mary, what on earth do you mean by letting those 
chickens out ? Go and chase thera in at once, I tell you, and 
then step across to Mrs. Watson's and tell her to come here, if 
she will. I wish a person could have an intelligent servant, 
but one of my chickens knows more than Mary. {Seats her- 
self lu.^ on settee.') Let me see. {Hunts in bag.) Here it is. 
{Takes out a letter.) Lucile is coming home to-day. She 
doesn't ask me, she just says she is coming. That is a little 
out of keeping with her docile nature and I didn't want her 
here until next week. She is bringing some girls with her. 
Well, dear child. I shall be glad to see her, anyway. {Enter 
Mrs. Watson, r., with a dog, which she drops into Miss P.'s 
lap.) Jane Watson, I don't want to hold your dog. I can't 
stand him ! I can't stand a woman that leads a dog about, 
anyway. I often wonder that we have been such lifelong 
friends and had such different tastes. Here you like this lazy, 
idle dog, Jeremiah, — and a foolish name you've given him, 
too. 

Mrs. W. Just hold him until I get my glasses untangled. 
Jeremiah was chasing your chickens. 

Miss P. Why didn't you say so before ? Why, I'll tie him 
here. Let's tie him now. 

Mrs. W. No, he'll behave, I'm sure. Mary said you 
wished to see me 



4 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Miss P. Mary has some glimmer of sense. Yes, I had a 
letter from Lucile this morning. 

Mrs. VV. From Lucile ! (JSeais herself suddenly beside 
Miss P. ) Is she coming home at last ? 

Miss P. Slie is coming home to-night, and she is bringing 
some girls with her. Here, take your dog Jeremiah. I can't 
abide him ! Yes, my dear, Lucile is coming home and now 
you tell Arthur and we'll have them get engaged next week, by 
Thursday, anyway. I'm not superstitious, but I don't believe 
Friday would be a good day for an engagement to take place — 
then they can be married by the first of September and we'll 
start for Europe on the Saturday following the wedding and 
begin our travels that we have planned so long. Now, haven't 
I planned well ? 

Mrs. W. Yes, but it seems — well, — a good deal cut and 
dried. 

Miss P. Well, what else can you think of? What's cut 
and dried about it ? If she gets home to-night they can get 
engaged by next Thursday, can't they? And it's nearly two 
and a half months till the first of September. 

Mrs. W. It seems a little like a rain schedule, that's all, so 
many stops and reach a certain place at a certain time. 

Miss P. Nonsense ! 

Mrs. W. Besides, what if they won't become engaged ? 

Miss P. Won't become engaged ! Won't become engaged ! 
What an idea ! We have planned for them to marry each 
other — well {suddenly), they might marry each other without 
an engagement and save time and we could get started on 
our trip sooner — I must buy a steamer trunk this morning — 
of course they'll be just as anxious as we are about this and 
Lucile is so docile and perfectly trained, none of these foolish 
notions in her head that girls seem to have nowadays. She is 
perfectly reared and Arthur has been brought up very well, too 
— except you have been too lenient with him. I believe in 
hammering boys into shape and you've let him get around you 
by his amiable ways 

Mrs. W. Arthur doesn't seem to be very enthusiastic about 
marrying Lucile. 

Miss P. He doesn't ! Well, enthusiasm doesn't matter 
much, anyhow. Who's that? If it's a peddler you can tell 
him to leave or set Jeremiah on him. {Enter r., wheeling a 
7vheelbarrow, Martin Henry, the servant of the Watsons, 
distinguished for being the laziest man in the coiinty.) Oh, 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 5 

Martin Henry, Martin Henry ! go and tell Arthur to come 
here, we wish to see him, and tell him to hurry because we 
want to talk to him about his wedding. 

Martin {sitting abruptly on wheelbarrow'). Who's he 
marrying ? 

Miss P. My niece, Lucile. 

Martin. Kind of sudden, ain't it ? 

Miss P. No. 

Martin. Oh ! Does he know it ? 

Miss P. Yes. 

Martin. Then why did you want me to tell him ? 

Miss P. Martin Henry, you are too exasperating. Now 
you go and tell him to come here and then you go and get me 
some chicken feed. Do you hear me ? 

Martin {who has been dozing). Yes, ma'am ! Yes, 
ma'am ! 

Mrs. W. Abigail, some way I feel nervous. Do you feel 
that we ought to hold so rigidly to our old ideas ? Now, per- 
haps Lucile 

Miss P. Nonsense ! You are so foolish. Do you know I 
think they could get engaged by Wednesday ; that would save 
a day — 1 must see Arthur. {Turns suddenly and sees Martin.) 
Martin Henry I What do you mean ? Go and tell Arthur to 
come here ! 

Martin (rising suddenly). Yes, ma'am. 

Miss P. And here, take Jeremiah. {Hands dog to him.) 

Martin. Where shall I take him ? 

Miss P. Anywhere ! He makes me so nervous. And go 
and tell Arthur to come here. 

Martin. It's no use. 

Miss P. No use ? 

Martin. Nope ! 'Cause he's here. 

Enter Arthur Watson, c. 



Arthur ! 



Mrs. W. 

Miss P. 

Art. Present, mother and Miss Abigail. What can I do 
for you ? Pvlartin, still taking the rest cure, I see. 

Miss P. He's taking Jeremiah. 

Art. That's good. Take him and lose him. 

Mrs. W. Arthur, how can you ! 

Miss P. Arthur, can you get engaged by Wednesday, or 
would you prefer to wait until Thursday ? 



6 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Art. Engaged to whom ? Will you have me, Miss Per- 
sons ? 

Miss P. Be sensible. Lucile is coming home to-night and 
some girls with her. Now you know your mother and I 
planned long ago that you two should marry, take over both 
the farms, and then we would travel, and I want to know if 
Thursday suits you better than Wednesday on which to get 
engaged. We want you to be energetic and then you can be 
married by September first and 

Art. Somehow, Miss Abigail, I don't think that Lucile 
will have me. 

Mrs. W. 



M,ssP. '^^'^'^" 



Art. I don't believe she'll admire me. Somehow I feel 
she'll throw me down. 

Miss P. Such language ! You talk as if she were a prize- 
fighter. 

Art. Well, I feel worried. This is serious business. Get 
engaged by Wednesday. 

Miss P. Oh, Pm glad you said Wednesday. It's much 
lucki'.-r than Thursday. Now as soon as Martin Henry gets 
back 

Martin. Ma'am ! 

Miss P. Mercy sakes, he's here yet ! Martin Henry, 
you're too lazy to live. 

Martin. Ma'am ! 

Miss P. Have you been resting ? 

Martin {indignantly). Pm not resting. Pm just waiting 
till it's time to quit work. 

Art. {laughing). Martin Henry is surely a philoso[)her. 
Why don't you people take him to Europe with you ? He 
would be such a fine traveling companion, quiet and peaceable. 

Miss P. You cannot divert me with your foolishness like 
you can your mother. Now, you come on, Mrs. Watson, and 
buy yourself a good, big steamer trunk and 

Art. When does — er — Lucile come — right away? Will 
she be here for the dance? 

Miss P. {going L. with Mrs. W.). Yes, of course, and you 
should see that she has a lovely time. 

Art. How will I know her? How will she know me? 
Shall I go up to her and say {going toward Martin), "Fair 
maid, the long sought day has come," or would you prefer that 
I say something classy and to the point, such as ''Bully 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 7 

dance, Liicile; rolten shame you have to take me"? (Slaps 
Martin.) 

Martin. Ma'am — sir ! 

Miss P. I don't like your flippancy, Arthur. Of course 
you will know each other. It has only been seven years since 
you saw each other. 

Art. She slapped me then. Shall I remind her of it? 

Mrs. W. Arthur ! 

Miss P. Come, Martin Henry, are you coming ? For the 
last time I ask it. 

Martin. Yes, ma'am. 

[Exeunt Mrs. W. and Miss P., r. 

Art. {unconscious that they have go fie). Say, Miss Abigail, 
had I better kiss her ? 

Enter Jack, Ted and Dick, l. 

Jack. Certain, but say no more about it. 

Art. [surprised). Well, where did you come from with all 
your good advice ? Have you cut class ? 

Jack. No, classes are over. We've just come down here 
to watch the committee get ready for the dance to-night. 
Highest paid positions, my son, go to the fellow who sits back 
and makes the rest work — get that? Pm practicing. Dick is 
the committee. 

Art. {absent-mindedly). Yes 

Ted. Say, why don't we have some rugs out here and fix 
this part of the lawn ? It'll be all right out here to-night. 
You get some rugs, Arthur. 

Art. Me get rugs ! Not much. I'm deliberating matters 
of state. 

Jack. Matters of state ? 

Art. Matters pertaining to the state of matrimony. 

Ted. Did I hear right ? 

Jack. Thinking of running a matrimonial bureau, old man ? 
There'd probably be as much money in it as in that farm of 
yours. Now, here's Ted, he'd be a drawing card. {Leads 
Ted to rustic bench and pushes him on it, assisted by Dick.) 
Ladies and gentlemen — observe this fascinating specimen. 
Hear his fine points. Good-natured, nice square figure, a 
frank, confiding countenance. Might be taken for Mellin's 
food baby, easily managed if well fed. 

Dick. Nice hair, don't forget that. He ought to be a 
winner. 



8 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Art. {suddenly). Maybe he could be. How would it suit 
you, Ted, to get engaged Wednesday ? 

Ted. Get engaged? As what? Are you short of help 
and want me to be janitor of the home of your aristocratic 
hogs? 

Art. {still struggling with brilliant idea). Why, you get 
engaged on Wednesday, then that's two and a half months till 
the first of September, when you can be married, and that will 
fix everything fine. Lucile will like you. 

Ted. Lucile? Say, are you sure you haven't a touch of 
sun ? Who is Lucile ? 

y t (solemnly). Who is Lucile? 

Art. Lucile ? Why, she is Lucile Persons, Miss Abigail's 
niece, and she is coming home in time for the dance to-night 
and she is bringing a lot of girls with her and you are to enter- 
tain them and Ted can get engaged to her because she doesn't 
care for me. 

Dick. Why should any one get engaged to her ? 

Jack. You're a poor committee. You're not working. 

Dick. I am. 

Ted. Hush ! I want to understand this. Go on. 

Art. Well, mother and Miss Abigail planned years ago for 
us to marry each other ; never consulted us, but just decided. 
Now Miss Abigail says, "Engaged by Wednesday, married 
September first," and I'm sure Lucile doesn't care for me. 

Dick. It doesn't seem to break your heart that she doesn't. 

Art. I cover my real feelings with light and airy nothings, 
and here is where you fellows come in strong. 

All. How ? 

Art. Well, it's seven years since I saw her and I won't 
know her and she probably won't recognize me, and 

Jack. A light dawns — she doesn't know me either. 

Dick. Nor me. 

Art. Nor Ted. So why not all entertain her ? Don't say 
who you are and keep her guessing a while and she will prob- 
ably fix her affections on some one of you and I'll pine on 
alone. You see mother and Miss Abigail won't introduce us. 
They rather expect us to rush into each other's arms. 

Ted. What will you do while the merry plot goes on ? 

Art. AVhy, I'll just entertain the girls she brings along and 
a few of the others that are here. 

Jack. Nice, modest man ! 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY n 

Art. Brilliant and gifted genius, you mean. Tliink it 
over. Work up your speeches so you'll have something to 
say, and so good luck to you. \Exif, r. 

Dick. Lively little scheme. Do we each go up to the lady 
and say, '< Charmed to meet you, Miss Persons, I'm Arthur 
Watson" ? 

Ted. Only one of us is to represent Arthur. 

Jack. No, sir, all of us. That is much better ; the lean, 
the fat, the tall, the thin, the ugly, the handsome, the ignorant, 
the learned. 

{Stage business of pointing to himself at the complime?itary 
terms.^ 

Dick. Hold on ; who do you think you are ? 

Jack. AVe are all in on this. 

Ted. All right, we are ! We will gently convey to her our 
pleasure at seeing her and then we must recall childhood days 
and no one must talk too long to her and not one must really 
say he is Arthur Watson \ just be light and delicate in his 
manner. 

Jack. All right. Now, why doesn't this committee work? 

Dick. Everything is done. The place looks perfectly well ; 
people will just wander out here between dances 

Jack. Say, we'd better leave or we'll not be ready for the 
party. Time gallops apace. 

Ted. What's this ? 

Enter Martin, l., wheeling a trunk in wheelbarrow. 

Jack. Hello, Martin, working ? 

Martin {indignantly). Can't you see ? 

Dick. I'm dying of the shock. 

Ted. Whose trunk is that ? 

Martin. Miss Abigail's. She's going to Europe, her and 
Mrs. Watson, just as soon as Arthur is married. 

Jack. Then, Martin, you don't need to hurry with that 
trunk— rest, Martin, rest. ''Nymph in orisons, be all my sins 
remembered." (Martin promptly reclines.^ Come, fellows, 
come. Let's be on our way. {^Exeunt, l. 

Enter Miss P., r. 

Miss P. Martin Henry, do you think I keep trunks on the 
front lawn ? Answer me. 



10 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Martin. Ma'am ! 

Miss P. You bring that in the house at once ! Hurry ! 
(^Goes over and shakes her Jim^er at him. He reluctantly 
moves off R.) Now, where is Mrs. Watson ? 1 declare, no 
one seems to do what I want them to do to-day, or to be where 
I want them to be. {Calls.) Mrs. Watson ! {Exit Martin. 
Enter Mrs. W., l.) Lucile has come and so have the girls. 
They are all in the house. 

Mrs. W, How is she? I'm so anxious to see her. 

Miss P. Well, she's a Persons, but she seems a little bit 
independent to me. I don't understand it. Siie acts as if she 
might have a mind of her own 

Mrs. W. Shall 1 run and tell Arthur ? 

Miss P. No, don't run anywhere. Those girls will do 
running enough soon. 

Mrs. W. Oh, what did she say about Arthur ? I wanted 
to bring one of his new pictures over and put it on her dressing 
table with some flowers beside it, but i suppose it's too late. 

Miss P. Yes, it's too late. She really didn't say much 
about him. She just asked if he had as many freckles as ever 
and if he bought his own neckties now, neither of which re- 
marks showed much sense, to my mind. But it was excite- 
ment, surely — really, my dear, she's very pretty. 

Mrs. W. I'm so glad. And tell me how she looks. I 
want to tell Arthur. 

Miss P. Well, she's going to wear a blue dress and black 
tulle bows in her hair, and you will tell him that and he'll 
know her, and tell him to be masterful ; that's what is always 
attractive to a young girl. Tell him to be firm and peremptory 
— commanding. 

Mrs. W. Oh, that's not my idea of a love affair at all. 

Miss P. Well, it's mine ! Come, I want to go in and look 
at your steamer trunk and see if it's as long as mine, and I ex- 
pect in the morning you better go to the tailor and order a 
heavy suit to travel in. It grows cold quickly in the fall 

Mrs. W. Blue bows and a black dress, you said 

Miss P. Blue dress, black bows. [Exit^ L. 

Enter Martin, r. ; most dejected tnanner, 

Martin. I need a vacation. No one's got any sympathy 
with me, and every one's a-goin' round the world or getting 
married or having a dance, and all the comfort I get is tending 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY It 

Miss Persons' chickens — chickens is mighty intelligent. I'd a 
heap rather associate with 'em than with lots of folks. Now 
Where's My ! Oh, my ! look what's coming ! 

Enter Lucile Persons, r., and three friends all dressed alike. 

LuciLE. Girls, it's great to be at home. Home ! That's 
the nicest word I know. 

Jane. I should think you'd have had such a splendid time 
these last few years you'd find it poky to be back here. 

Lucile. Poky ! I love it ! This is the nicest little town, 
and there's lovely, charming people here, and I love to stay 
here. 

Mabel. And who is this young man you've always told me 
so much about ? Where does he live ? Near here ? 

Lucile. Sh ! Yes, right over there. Yes, that's the Wat- 
sons' house. Arthur and his mother live there. 

Marie. I've always liked the name — Arthur. Do tell me 
about him. 

Lucile. Now, girls, I depend on you to help me. Of 
course my marrying Arthur Watson is perfectly impossible, and 
Aunt Abigail must be gently led to see that. Just a little sug- 
gestion here and there, and the deed is done as far as she is 
concerned ; and as for Arthur, why, he doesn't care about me 
at all. He was the meanest boy when we were little, and he 
has probably gone here to college and absorbed only some 
knowledge on sweaters, ball games and college pennants, and 
probably looks like a clothing store advertisement. Can't you 
see him ? 

Marie. And you're going to stay here a while, and then 
let your aunt gradually find out that you want to have a career, 
that you intend to take a position as a domestic science teacher. 
What will she say ? 

Lucile. I don't want to think what she will say, but what 
I will say in answer to her. 

Marie. Well, do you know what I think? Maybe you'd 
better take this Arthur Watson. You may get to teaching, and 
never have another chance. 

Jane. Oh, yes she will, if she teaches Domestic Science. 

Marie. I'm not so sure about that. There are getting to 
be so many doing that. 

Lucile. Now do you know I think you are positively catty 
to say that, but if you will help out my plan I'll forgive you. 

Mabel. Well, what is it ? 



12 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

LuciLE. Aunt Abigail and Mrs. Watson, both perfect dears, 
think that Arthur and 1 will rush at each other like long lost 
children, and they will stand by and weep quietly just as if 
they were at a funeral, when, as a matter of fact, I am going to 
rush the opposite way when I see him. But here is the plot. 
We are all dressed alike, and that is part of my scheme. Now 
at the dance to-night, you know it is a big affair, we'll separate. 
He'll be looking for a girl in a blue dress and black bows. 
I've seen to that, and then we must each one take turns in talk- 
ing to him, and he will have us so confused that he v/ill not 
recognize me, and he'll probably fall in love with one of you. 

Marie. I speak for him. 

Jane. Now what shall we say to him? 

LuciLE. Well, I think we should all keep on the same topics 
of conversation or he might suspect, and so I've made some 
lists, one for each one of you. Here they are. {Takes out 
lists and reads. ^ One, ask him if he is fond of animals 
still; he had a goat once. Two, remind him of when he 
played Robinson Crusoe and he wouldn't let me be Robinson. 
These are just reminders of the past. Then tell him that you 
would have known him anywhere. Then be sure and tell him 
you understand him. Next, tell him you have counted the 
days until you would see him — and that is the truth — I have, 
but he'll not take it the way I mean it — and then last, and last, 
be sure and ask him if he thinks you've changed. Oh, you 
can work in any little light touches you want to, but these will 
do for a start. 

Marie. I'm awfully nervous about it. Suppose he takes 
seriously to me ? 

LuciLE. Don't let him. Now, come on. {Suddenly sees 
Martin.) Girls ! There's Martin Henry asleep, as usual. 
Let's practice on him. He's one of my very best friends. 
Come over here and let's try and see if we can take him in so 
he thinks we are all one and the same. {They go to r. and 
stand in a group, and one after another come on and speak to 
Martin, each managing to slip off quickly^ and another takes 
her place. Martin is not fully aivake, and rouses up ivhen he 
talks. LuciLE enters first.') How do you, Martin Henry ? 
Wake up. 

Martin. Ma'am — sir — ma'am? 

LuciLE. Do you know me? 

Martin. Do I know you ? The Love love you. Miss Lucile, 
I'd know you in Guiney. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY I3 

LuciLE. Are you real well now, Martin Henry ? 

Martin. Only tolerable; really, I'm very poorly, Miss 
Lucile, very poorly. I have to rest myself all the time so 1 can 
be able to get about to work, Miss Lucile. 

Lucile. I'm very sorry to hear that 

( Walks toward entrance and Marie comes out.) 

Marie, Are you glad to see me, Martin Henry ? 
Martin. Glad to see you? 1 wouldn't dare to tell you 
how glad I am. 

Marie. Oh, that's nice of you, Martin Henry. 

( Waves at Jane and ftianages to slip back. Jane cofues 
forward.) 

Jane. Martin Henry, wake up ; you're asleep again. 

Martin. I'm always awake, always— except when I'm rest- 
ing my eyes. 

Jane. What are you doing now, Martin Henry— just what 
you did when I was at home ? 

Martin. Much the same, ma'am. 

(Jane goes toward entrance.) 
Enter Mabel. 

Mabel. Martin Henry, do tell me about your chickens — 
oh, I do believe he's going off to sleep again. He is, really. 
Girls ! Girls ! Come here ! {She watches, sees he is 
sleepy, and beckojis for them all to come to the front of stage.) 
He is so sleepy he hasn't heard a word we have said. 

Lucile. Oh, now I think he did. Be quiet, he'll hear us. 

Mabel. No, he won't ; he's asleep. 

{They watch and Martiij slumbers peacefully.) 

Jane. I'm so excited. I think this will be great fun. I 
hope I'll not be nervous. 

Lucile. Oh, I know it will work out. We'll make it. 
Now come. There are a dozen plans I want to show you. Go 
slowly, girls, or you'll waken Martin Henry. 

{They steal out softly.) 

Martin {waking up). Now if that ain't just like a woman, 
a-schemin' up something against a poor, defenseless man. I 



14 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 



hope Arthur don't marry her. It would just mean that she 
would have him dancin' and prancin' all the time about some- 
thing. She's too sot in her ways for a young girl ; if she ain't 
careful she'll grow up an old maid like her Aunt Abigail. 
That's what she will. She's too dictatorial to suit me ! Too 
dictatorial ! The idea of them lively young things thinkin' 1 
was sleeping. They're just so blamed healthy they can't realize 
what a sensitive, delicate person like myself has to stand. 
Now, should I tell Arthur about it? No, sir, I'll attend to my 
own business, which is chickens, and the rest of them can go 
rip snortin' around just as they want to, and I'll be peaceable 
and happy. But she's too dictatorial for a girl. I hope she 
doesn't get him; but she'll stir up something; there never was 
a woman but what got a lot of pleasure about stirring up things 
to worry a man. It's getting late, and I must get some rest. 

{Rises and starts out slowly L. ; jfieets Art., who calls out 
jovially.) 

Art. Don't move so quickly, Martm Henry; go easy. 

Martin {looking back at him and shaking his head). Poor 
fellow ! Poor fellow ! [Exit, l. 

Art. This has been a long day, and there's more to come. 
Well, here's hoping. 

Mrs. W. {entering I..). Arthur! Arthur! Oh, here you 
are. I have been waiting to see you. Have you seen Miss 
Abigail? Lucile and her friends came a while ago, and I 
wanted to tell you. Now, when you see her you'll know her, 
because she has on a blue dress and black bows. {Waits 
nervously.) I hope you will like her, Arthur. 

Art. Of course I will like her. I always like girls. Oh, 
now don't you worry, mother, this will all work out. 

Mrs. W. I hope so, but somehow I'm nervous. I can't 
help it. [Exit, l. 

Art. Jove ! I feel a litde guilty. {Sits down.) 

Enter Marie, r., looking about. 

Marie. I wonder where my handkerchief is. I dropped it 
somewliere here. {Starts ; sees Art.) I wonder if that is he 
— Lucile showed me his picture. Yes, I'll try and see. (Goes 
forward, stands looking very demure. Coughs slightly. Art., 
absorbed in thought, does not hear. Mkrie, faintly.) Good- 
evening. It's a lovely evening. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY '5 

Art, i^tariins to his feet). Good-evening. Yes, it's a 
'° mI^e!"' s'oa.ehow I just felt you'd be waiting for me, so I 
'^nS^:^^k reco,ni.in, Her^ It was awfuUy 

so^lad to see yoi before the rest. I've just been counting the 
™\?mes until /should be here. You ought to see ^y ca end r 

^ohin^n Crusoe, and you were so good to me and let me be 

SB^-r^r;okw?4^n^^-^^^ 

wilUake'a long time to tell, and we must have some long, long 

'"am Yes, we can talk at the dance, can't we ? Now wait 
here's a card for you. I'll fix it now. (Fixes dance prosram.-) 
M RlE {pleased). Oh, you've taken a good vn^"y- 
Art Tust for that remark I'll take some more. (Takes them.-) 
Mab.f I must go. Good-bye until the dance. 
ART So must f . Why, it's'nearly time ! I must go, but 

'^''T.2T<;Tn77ance W). Yes, in just a lUtle while 
rART exits L , Marie b., but does not go clear off. Comes 
(ART ^*'" V:' , ^„r ' Lucile's a perfect gump to act the 

him. How shall I manage it ? 

Enfer Jane and Mabel, r. 

M.BE.. Marie, we ^^^ J-^Xtrol'^^'ol^^yrktw^ 
^M;L"W:^W' Oh, yes, I k„ow_we,l, he's medium 



l6 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

tall, and he has dark hair, and Lucile says he wears ugly neck- 
ties and — well, that's all I can think of. 

Jane. I don't see how I'll ever know him. 

Marie. Wait for him a little. He'll come to you, I think, 
and then I'll try and see if I can find out right away, and if 
you see me with any man you wait, because I'll come and tell 
you if he is the one you are to talk to. 

Jane. That will be fine, and we'll do the same. 

Marie. Come, I want to see Lucile a minute. You com- 
ing, Mabel ? \^Exit, r. 

Mabel. Yes, I'll be there. Go on. I can't find my 
list. {Hunts in bag.) 

Enter Jack, l. 

Jack {starting when he sees Mabel and going forward). 
Good-evening — I hope you {Expectant.) 

Mabel. Oh, good-evening. You're medium tall, are you 
not? 

Jack. Oh — why, yes. {Greatly surprised.) 

Mabel. And your hair is dark ? 

Jack. Oh — a — why, yes, it always has been. I don't per- 
oxide it, you know. 

Mabel. I'm awfully stupid, but at first I didn't recognize 
you, and {Aside.) Oh, where is my list of what to say? 

Jack. But I knew you at once ! {Aside.) That dress is 
blue, I guess. 

Mabel. I am so glad. 

Jack. Yes, it has been so long, but it's great that you're 
here for the dance. {A group of people pass across the stage 
talking and laughing.) There come some of our people for it 
already. I think I'd better make out your program right away. 
Suppose we go and see if the orchestra has come. Let's go 
this way. 

Mabel. Why, I was going to wait for the girls. 

(Dick enters L. and is motioning to Jack from rear.) 

Jack. Oh, you don't want to wait for them. 

Mabel {turning suddenly and seeing Dick). There's a man 
that wants to speak to you, I am sure. 

Jack {turning and seeing Dick). Oh, he's just one of the 
committee, come out to see how things are, you know. His 
name is — Green. Ah, Mr. Green, I was just telling Miss Per- 
sons that the grounds looked very well this evening. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 1 7 

Dick {coming close to Jack). Say, that's not fair. You're 
cutting me out of this entirely if you say my name's Green. 

Jack. Never mind, Mr. Green, don't worry ; every one will 
have a lovely time to-night. {To Mabel.) I have to encour- 
age him. He's a nervous fellow, and he has worked hard for 
this dance even if it is an informal affair. 

Mabel. That is so nice of you to praise him. 

Jack. Well, he deserves something. Good-evening, Mr. 
Green. 

( Goes L. Another group of people pass and go toward l. 
One couple lingers.') 

Dick. If that wasn't a dirty deal. I'll fix him some way for 
that. Calls me Mr. Green and kills my chance of being Arthur 
Watson. Oh, well, I'll show him up. 

{Goes to L. Meets Mrs. W.) 

Mrs. W. Good-evening, Dick ; the dance is about to start. 
You'd better go in. And have you seen Lucile Persons yet ? 
You remember her, don't you ? Anyhow, she had on a blue 
dress and black bows. Have you seen her come over yet ? 

{Group of people pass over.) 

Dick. Why, no, 1 haven't, but maybe she is in that 

group 

Mrs. W. Maybe she is. Let me see {Starts off.) 

Enter Jane from r. Dick starts. 

Dick. Blue dress — black bows — that's she — I'm on. Jack 
had the wrong girl, {Goes forward.) Good-evening, Miss 
Persons. I'm so glad to see you. I was growing so impatient 
waiting. It's perfectly great to have you back. Come, I want 
to make out your program. (Ted enters l. ; is trying to steal 
by unnoticed. Dick decides on a bold play.) Oh, come here 
and meet Miss Persons. Lucile, I wish to present Mr. Green, 
who has been on the committee for this dance and done a great 
deal of work. He deserves much credit. I think everything 
is going to be excellent, Mr. Green. 

Jane. I'm so glad to meet you, Mr. Green. 

Ted. Well— er— I 

Dick C^^/>/^ L.). Don't mention it. (71? Jane.) He's a 
peculiar fellow. Nervous, upset over my compliment. 



1 8 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Jane. You were so nice to him. \_Exeiint, l. 

Ted. That's the way he's playing tiie game, is it ? Well, 
I'll fix him. Just watch me get busy. Here goes. 

{Starts after them l. Another group crosses the stage.) 

Enter Lucile from r., /// a white dress. 

LuciLE. Well, I suppose 1 feel only the way one should feel 
who has schemed up a fabric of falsification — but I don't care. 
I'm going to see it through. And anyway, I haven't really 
told any big untruth. I've just stretched the truth a little, 
and I did wear a blue dress and black bows to-night. I did 
not say I wouldn't take it off. {Soft music is playing and two 
or three couples stroll about.) I don't want to marry Arthur 
Watson, anyway ; not unless he's real crazy about me. Oh, 
of course, if he just said I must, and he was awfully handsome 
and attractive, I might only teach one or two years. Well, 
anyhow, if he is anxious to see me and has the least spark of 
interest in me he'll know me, whether I have on a blue dress 
or a white one. And so really I haven't done wrong a bit. 
I'm only just giving him a chance to show what he really is. 

(Lucile is half satisfied with the argument. Several couples 
come out, and among them Art. and Marie. They pass 
jiear Lucile.) 

Art. (Jo Marie). It was so fine of you, Lucile, to remem- 
ber all the things we used to do. We must hunt some quiet 
place and talk. Who wants to dance ! [Exeunt, r. 

Lucile [suddenly jealous). The idea ! She's just leading 
him on. He's in earnest. {Sees Mabel with Jack.) And 
there's Mabel with a man. I declare my guests seem to forget 
they have a hostess. 

Enter Ted, l. 

Mabel. There's another man that wants to speak to you. 
You have so many friends, haven't you?' 

Jack. Oh, yes, there's another Mr. Green. Brother to the 
one I told you about ! Good-evening, Mr. Green ; I'm glad to 
see you. I was just telling your brother what a success the 
dance was. [Exit r., followed by Ted. 

{Many groups of people gathering, passing in and out.) 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY I9 

LuciLE. Oh, I thought maybe that was Arthur, and he 
called him Mr. Green, and I don't know which one Arthur is. 
and there's Mabel with some one. (Mabel and Dick have 
entered and are talking.) Well, this is the stupidest party I 
ever saw. I'm glad Aunt Abigail hasn't come out. Why, I 
think those girls are perfectly horrid. Here I am having no 
fun at all. {Some one in the crowd calls out.') 

First Girl. Let's dance out here. ( Cries from a number.) 
Let's dance out here ! That's the idea ! {Applause.) 

Second Girl {rushing out c. f.). Everybody listen; we 
are going to have a figure of the German out here ; now every- 
body leave his partner. {Cries of *^no.'') Yes, you must; 
and each girl is to have a candle, and these lights are to be 
turned out, and the men all hide. 

Jack {to Mabel). I'll tell you where I hide. 

Second Girl. And the girls will light their candles, and 
whoever they find will be their partner. Do you all under- 
stand? {Cries of ^^yes^) Well, now pass the candles and 
matches. {They are passed.) And let's have the lights out. 
(Lights out. Men hide.) And when every one is hidden we'll 
hunt you. 

{Men hide. Girls light candles. Lucile is handed candle.) 

LuciLE. Well, I'll get some one this time, and dance and 
have a good time. 
First Girl. Ready? 

{Girls hunt, and as they find partner begin to dance. 
hvciLEfnds 710 one.) 

Lucile. I will find some one. Oh, there is some one over 
there. I'll get him. {Rushes and drags ^///Martin.) Very 
well, Martin Henry, I'll dance with you. Come on. 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — The same. Mary, cook at Miss V.'s, pressing a 
white dress on ironing-board. Clothes-horse stretched across, 
some dresses on it. Lucile sitting near on a low stool, with 
bowl and spoon, making mayonnaise. 

Lucile. I told you, Mary, that this was the place to do 
your ironing, and you see that I am right. It's much cooler 
out here than in the house, and no one can see us from the 
street, so altogether it's much nicer. 

Mary. Indeed, ma'am, it's wonderful how knowing you 
are about the house, quite wonderful that with all your going to 
school and studying, and being educated as I presume you are, 
heaven knows what you do know. 

Lucile. Why, this is what I've been studying, you know — 
just this kind of thing. 

Mary (amazed). What ! 

Lucile. I've been studying Household Art. 

MarYv Household Art ! {Shakes her head, much puzzled.) 
Don't know nothing about them, but I know this dress is awful 
hard to iron, Miss Lucile; but then there's no lady around 
here that could iron it, I suppose, but myself, and then there's 
all them over there, too. This one's real pretty. {Goes over 
to a dress hanging on the line.') Don't you think so? It's 
Miss Marie's ; she has pretty clothes. I like this kind of ma- 
terial. It irons well, and then the lace is pretty, too. 

Lucile {shortly). Yes, it's a very pretty dress. Marie has 
so many clothes ; nearly all those are hers. She has so many 
more clothes than any of the girls at school, no wonder 
she looks so nice and is so attractive. {Hatefully.) I suppose 
she's attractive, that's it. 

Mary {coming back to ironing-board). Where is she this 
afternoon ? 

Lucile. Oh, she's asleep. All the girls are. They said 
they had such a grand time yesterday at the picnic that they 
were going to rest up all to-day until time for the bazaar. 

Mary. Why didn't you go to the picnic? 

Lucile. Oh, I went shopping with Aunt Abigail. She's 
wildly buying everything she can think of for a journey. Do 

20 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 21 

you know I think she means to take me to Europe, the old 
dear, for a surprise. I don't imagine that she'd go alone. So 
I just raced through all the shops with her yesterday, and the 
girls were invited to the picnic at the dance, and you see, Mary, 
when you have a house party you just have to give your guests 
lots of liberty, or your party is a failure, so I thought I'd let 
them do what they pleased, then I'd please myself. 

Mary. So you pleased yourself, did you ? Humph ! 

LuciLE. What ? 

Mary. Some people's ideas of pleasure is mighty queer. 

LuciLE {watching Mary narroivly, but Mary gives no sign 
of being conscious of being on dangerous grounds). I believe 
in being pleased with what you do. That's the way to be 
happy. 

Mary. Humph ! That's a good idea. 

LuciLE (^quickly). Did that boy bring the lettuce, Mary? 
You know you said there was a boy that you could depend on 
— he always had such nice vegetables. 

Mary. 'Tain't a boy. 

LuciLE. I thought you said 

Mary {ironing vigorously'). I said a young man who raises 
vegetables on his farm near here. 

LuciLE. Oh, yes, some poor boy, I suppose, who is work- 
ing hard and helping himself. 

Mary. Yes, you could call it that. 

LuciLE. Did you say he brought the lettuce ? I want to be 
sure to have enough for the salad. I'm so excited about the 
bazaar. 

Mary. He didn't bring it, but he will soon, I know — he 
always comes. 

LuciLE. I wish he'd hurry. Oh, why, look, Mary — look at 
those women ! Who are they ? 

Enter two gypsy women, who do not look at Lucile arid Mary, 
but are talking in whispers. 

Mary {pausing with her iron in the air). Them — gypsies. 
I hope Martin Henry did not see them. He'll be scared to 
death about his chickens. He always thinks they're going to 
steal them. You know gypsies is awful thievin'. 

LuciLE. They're coming right over. 

( The two women come toward Mary and Lucile. Lucile 
half rises. ) 



22 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

First Gypsy. Lady, have you no clothes for me, kind lady ? 
Give me just little something you don't need, then I tell you 
what you want to know and no lie, lady. 

LuciLE. I have no clothes to .give away. Do you want 
something to eat ? 

First Gypsy. Thank you, lady, eef you be so kind. {Hesi- 
tates ^ looks eager.) I see a great surprise coming to you. 

(Mary disgustedly sets down iron.') 

LuciLE. Mary, please go in and get something for these 
women to eat. 

(Mary very unwillingly goes.) 

First Gypsy. Lady, you have trouble. The third person 
you speak to after I leave — your luck turn. 

LuciLE. I don't believe in luck. 

First Gypsy. That's why you unlucky. You remember 
what I say — the third person you speak to after I leave — I see 
it written in the stars for you — you make lots of your own 
trouble, though — yet you never die of love, and hard work 
never kill you. 

LuciLE. I could have told you that myself. {Reenter 
Mary, l., with small package, which Lucile takes and gives 
to gypsies.) There is something for you. 

First Gypsy. Thank you, lady; may the stars shine 
brightly for you. Remember the third person after me. 

{Ttirns to go R. They go out in a very stealthy manner 
glancing at clothes.) 

Mary. There is Martin Henry. 

(Martin appears from l., sees gypsies, throws up his hands 
and staggers toward Mary.) 

Lucile. Mary, what's the matter with him ? 

Mary. Jest his curious ways. Martin Henry, stop being a 
fool. 

Martin. It's my heart. 

Lucile. Your heart, Martin Henry ? 

Martin. Yes, I need some camphor. I've got such a 
shock. 

Lucile. I'll get it. 

(Martin sits down and fans himself with his hat.) 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 23 

Mary. You're an old goose, getting scared of gypsies. 

Martin Mebbe I am. Mebbe 1 am. But this neighbor- 
hood's goin' to see trouble, 1 know. That black pullet's gone 
and climbed up in the plum-tree, and wlienever she does that 
I know trouble's coming. It's a bad sign. Then 1 over- 
worked yesterday for Miss Persons, carrying trunks down, and 
that's another bad sign. And now gypsies ! I'm not down- 
cast, but I tell ye I'm not goin' to be surprised at anything. 

Mary. I'm ashamed I'm your aunt. 

Martin. I ain't. 

Mary. Such a silly, foolish idea I never heard. 

Enter Art. quickly, dressed as having come from the garden 
and carrying basket. 

Art. You and Mardn quarreling? Here's your lettuce. 
Hope it's not too late. 

Mary. If it was, I guess I'd have to stand it. 

Art. Oh, I say— Mary 

E7iter LuciLE at l. 
LuciLE. Mary, I can't find the camphor. Will you please 
come here ? 

Art. Got a new maid over here ? 

{Indicates Lucile by a wave of hand,) 

Martin. Meaning her ? 

Art. Meaning her. -a a 

Martin. Well, now, you might call her the new maid, and 
then again you mightn't. 

Art You're a wonder, Martin Henry. What was it she 
said about camphor ? , ., 1 ^ ^„a ^u^ 

Martin. I'm having an attack with my heart, anrt sne 
went to get some camphor. She's working here. 

Art. You mean you're working her. What gave you your 

^Martin. ^ Gypsies. They always give me heart attack regu- 
larly. We're all goin' to have bad luck. I've had three signs 
to-day. 

Enter Lucile from l. 

LuoiLE. Martin Henry, Mary says for you to go in the 
house and she has something belter than camphor for you. 



24 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Martin (slowly going l.). Probably wants me to work. 
That's likely her idea 

LuciLE {seeing Art., who has been watching Martin). The 
lettuce looks very nice. Do you raise many vegetables ? 

Art. Yes — yes, a good many 

LuciLE. And you like your work? 

Art. Yes. 

LuciLE. Have you been working so you could go to 
college ? 

Art. No, no — not exactly. 

LuciLE {disappointed). Oh, I thought you were ambitious 
for an education. 

Art. I suppose you are. 

LuciLE. Oh, yes, indeed. I always have been. Why 
don't you think about it? You ought to be able to do both — 
work and go to school. You look strong. 

Art. Oh, yes, I'm very strong. 

LuciLE. Well, we'll probably need a good many vegetables 
this week. We've so much company; so bring all you can 
spare. {Goes l. ) 

Art. Worried about my education. Well, that's good. I 
wish I had thought to send this note to Lucile by her. [Slops, 
reads it, shakes his head.') Well, it will have to wait a while. 
I don't believe I'll send it. 

( Crufnples the paper and sticks it in his pocket, hut it falls 
out unnoticed by Art., who is picking up his basket in 
which was the lettuce. Exit, r.) 

{From the hedge at the back the two gypsies come stealthily 
out with ?na?iy signs of caution. The first one quickly 
takes dress from ironifig-board ; the other woman re- 
moves clothes from the line and they put them hastily into 
the basket and the first one lifts the basket and starts out. 
The other darts to l. and comes back carrying a chicken. 
As she goes she sees the crumpled paper Art. threw aiuay 
and, intent on stealing everything in sight, she takes this 
and slips out after the other, r. From L. one hears 
Marie talking. Enters with Mabel a^id Jane.) 

Marie. Mary said to come out here and we'd find the 
laundry. I don't see it, do you ? 

Jane. Why, no, it's gone. But some one has just been 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 25 

ironing here. They have probably just gone in the house with 
them by one door as you came out the other. 

Mabel. Did you have a good time yesterday, Marie ? 

Marie. Oh, yes, indeed ; but do you know, I beheve 
Lucile thinks we were all at the picnic, when really I was the 
only one there. Did you have a good time ? 

Mabel. Oh, yes, I went canoeing, you know, and Jane 
stayed at home; didn't you, Jane? 

Jane. Yes, but I had a nice day. Lucile knows how to 
have a house party, doesn't she? 

Marie. I think that bazaar will be nice. She is so inter- 
ested in it. It is a kind of benefit for the Playground or Fresh 
Air Fund or something. I never can remember what all these 
associations are, there are so many improving ones. But let's 
find Mary. The dress I wanted to wear to-night was out here. 

Jane. So was mine. 

Mabel. And mine. 

Marie (calling). Mary, Mary, I can't find any clothes 
out here. You must have just taken them in as I came out. 

(Mary appears l.) 

Mary. No clothes out here ! What do you mean. Miss 
Marie? {Sees clothes are gone and is dumbfounded.) Who 
took those clothes in ? I left them there. 

Marie. They were gone when we came out. 

Lucile {appearing). What are gone? {Suddenly sees the 
clothes are gone.) The dresses — why, I left them here — what 
has happened ? Oh ! 

Mabel. You mean they are gone ? 

Jane. AVhat will we wear to-night? 

Lucile. They can't be gone. 

Marie. But they are, I tell you. Some one has stolen 
them. 

Lucile. Nonsense ! No one steals things here. 

Martin {appearing stiddenly l.). Them gypsies come 
back. 

Mary. That's it. 

All. What? 

Mary. The gypsies took them, of course. That's what 
happened. We all came away and left them. 

Lucile. And then you think they came back and took the 
clothes ? 

Marie. Of course they did. Talk about being a nice 



26 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

town ! It's horrid. Lose your clothes just when you think 

you're going to have a nice time ! 

LuciLE. I'm so sorry, but maybe you'll get them back. 

Mabel. ) r u 

T y I hope so. 

Jane, j ^ 

Martin (wi/h the greatest speed he has shown yet). Did 

they get any of my chickens ? {Starts off.) 

Marie {disgustedly). His chickens ! And my nice dress 

with hand- made lace on it gone, and 

• Mabel. My best dress, too. 

(Martin appears with hatchet and walks briskly,) 

Mary. What is it, Martin Henry ? 

Martin. I told you we'd see trouble. My best chicken 
gone, and I'm going after it. \^Exit, L. 

LuciLE. I'll go and telephone the city hall, and we'll start 
some one after them. Come; and, Mary, let's take these 
clothes in. They'll have that bazaar whether we have lost any 
clothes or not. 

(Mary and Lucile remove table.) 

Mabel. I suppose we might just as well go in and dress. 
There's nothing to do but wait. 

Jane. I suppose so. \^Exity L. 

Marie. It's just too provoking for anything, lose your best 
dress just at the critical time. I might have worn it without 
having it pressed. That just comes of being too particular. 
Now, I wanted to look particularly well. It's all right to say 
never mind. I've always found that one had to pay lots of at- 
tention to their clothes. Oh, everything goes wrong ! I 
wanted to look nice to-night, and then Arthur said he would 
send me a note this morning so I would know where to look 
for him to-night — it's too provoking he is so busy. Well, I 
suppose there's no use fussing about it. I wonder if that lav- 
ender dress will look all right, or what had I better wear? 
{Enter ART.,/r^w R. Marie looks amazed at his costume.) 
How funny you look. 

Art. Funny ! I've been working, that's all. 

Marie. I didn't get any note from you. 

Art. Well, now, you see I'm here, so there's really no need 
of any note. 

Marie. I don't see it that way at all. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 1"! 

Art. You don't? That's too bad. How soon does this 
affair begin ? 

Marie. Oh, very soon, I think, and the worst thuig has 
happened. I'm so indignant. I think this is a horrid place, 
and everybody is so stupid. 
Art. Thank you. 

Marie. Our clothes have been stolen. 
Art. Stolen? 

Marie. Yes ; can't you understand ? Stolen, stolen by some 
nasty gypsies or somebody in the town that wanted clothes. 
Mary was pressing out some of our clothes, and she went in just 
before we came out, and in that time some one took them. 

Art. I'm sure that's a joke. That sounds too much like 
some one had taken you all in, Mary included. 

Marie {indignantly). Take us in ! A joke ! A joke to 
lose one's dress and loads of real Irish lace on it and hand em- 
broidery? , 
Art. That's too bad. But you'll get them back, and it s 
no doubt a joke, I tell you. {Much to Marie's disgust breaks 
off thread of conversation, and says abruptly.) Do you know 
1 just saw Martin Henry beating it up the street, and he 
had a hatchet. What do you suppose was the matter ? That's 

wliy I came over to see if it was the Day of Judgment, or 

Marie. That's nice, more interested in Martin Henry than 
in me, and wondering why he was *' beating" it up the street 
as you say— then they say women are the most curious ones. 
You're not a bit sorry that I've lost my clothes. 
Art. Oh, I think you'll get them back. 
Marie. You do ! {Sarcastically.) I suppose you're still 
wondering about Martin Henry. They took one of his chick- 
ens, too, if that does you any good. 

Art. {laughing). They did! Oh, then you'll get your 
clothes back if Martin Henry is stirred up. 
Marie. I don't see anything to laugh at. 
Art. Don't you remember how, years ago, Martin Henry 
caught that boy that stole his chickens? He'll get this thief. 
Slovv, but sure, is Martin Henry. 

Marie. 1 don't remember anything about it, I tell you, and 
I think you are horrid and unsympathetic, and it you had any 
interest at all you would try to help instead of standmg around 
talking. That's just like a man, not to do anythmg when you 
want them to I hope your curiosity will be satisfied. 

\_Exit, L. 



28 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Art. {standing surprised). We have some temper, so it 
seems. She didn't remember about Martin Henry. She went 
with him to catch the boy. Perhaps I better send her the note 
after aU. Where is it? {Looks through all his pockets.') 
Surely I put it in here. That's a great idea. 

E?iter LuciLE, r., still with apron and cap on, 

LuciLE. Oh, here you are. I'm so glad. You know we've 
had a robbery. Now, will you do something for me? I'll pay 
you for your time. You see, I've just found out over the tele- 
phone that some gypsies are camped down by the Indian Mill, 
and I want you to go down there across the old graveyard, 
down that back way — you know where I mean — and overtake 
these women, and when you overtake them 

Art. Do I throttle them single-handed ? 

LuciLE (slowly). You are to be paid for the 

Art. Oh ! 

LuciLE. You go up to the larger one and say that the young 
lady finds she gave her the wrong basket of clothes, and that 
she has another that will suit her better. 

Art. Then do I snatch the basket ? 

LuciLE. No, tell her she must come back at once with you 
to get the other clothes. You said you were strong, didn't 
you ? Well, you look at her and tell her to come, and see that 
she comes, and give her this as an inducement. 

{Hands him bill.) 

Art. Oh, you're going to bribe her, I see. 

LuciLE. I need her services. Now hurry. You can do it. 
I could do it myself if I didn't have to finish this salad. Make 
them both come back with you. Don't for one moment let 
them think that you think they stole the clothes. 

Art. All right. May I ask you to give Miss Persons a 
message for me? 

LuciLE. Miss Persons is out driving with Mrs. Watson. 

Art. I meant Miss Lucile Persons. 

LuciLE. Oh, why, yes. 

Art. {hurriedly, as about to leave the stage). Be so good 
as to say to Miss Lucile that her quarrel about man's curiosity 
may be continued here in the garden at six o'clock. I'll get 
your gypsies for you. [^Exit, R. 

LuciLE. Well, of all things. Man's curiosity — quarrel — I 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 29 

don't know what he means, but I believe he'll get those gypsies 
for me. 

Enter ]kCV^from R. ; stops when he sees Lucile. 
Jack. Is 



Lucile. You wished to see some one ? 

Jack. Yes, Miss Persons. 

Lucile. Miss Persons is out driving with Mrs. Watson, or 
did you wish to see her niece? 

Jack. I wanted to see her — Lucile. 

Lucile. You did ? Could I take a message for you ? She 
can't see you for a little while, I know. 

Jack. Please say to Miss Lucile that Mr. Watson wishes to 
see her as soon as the bazaar begins. I'll meet her out here in 
this part of the garden. {Sees Lvcile' s peculiar /ook.) You 
understand, don't you? 

Lucile. No — yes, I understand — I'll tell her. 

(As Jack ts about to go, Dick enters and rushes at him, 
saying.) 

Dick. Jack ! Jack ! I've been looking everywhere for 
you, asking every one I met where Jack Nichols was—just 
went and lost yourself, didn't you ? Do you know what's hap- 
pened ? 

Jack. Do I look as if I did ? 

Dick. Well, it's going to happen to you, too, I bet— all of 
us, most likely. I can just see us sticking around this town 
indefinitely. 

Jack. Well, what's happened ? and cut out your prophecies. 

Dick. Did you ever have the mumps ? 

Jack. No. 

Dick. Well, Ted has them, and we'll probably all have 
them. 

Jack (raging). That's luck, now, isn't it? That's just 
like Ted ! I expect he did it on purpose. Probably did. 
Just thought he could get even with us that way— just like 
him. 

Dick. He couldn't do it on purpose. 

Jack. You don't know Ted; he's capable of almost any- 
thing that he thinks is a joke. 

Dick {suddenly seeing Lucile, who has lingered an inter- 



30 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 



ested spectator, still holding bowl and spoo7i). Will you take 
a message for me to Miss Lucile ? 

Jack. Don't ask her. 

Lucile. What is it you wish ? 

Dick. Will you tell her that Mr. Watson wishes to see her 
at once when she comes down to the bazaar, and that he will 
wait for her — out here ? 

Lucile. Certainly I'll tell her. {Goes l.) 

Jack. Of all the confounded idiots, you're the prime one, 
except Ted — he's worse than you. Just before you came I sent 
in a message a good deal like yours. What did you mean by 
saying you were Mr. Watson? 

Dick. I didn't. I only told her to say Mr. Watson wished 
to 

Jack. I heard you, and you called me by my name, too. 

Dick. It's not against the law to call any one by their own 
name, is it? Anyhow, I didn't call you Mr. Green, kindly 
remember — and she was a new maid ; she doesn't know us. 

Jack. You'll see you have made a fine mess out of things. 
Come on with me before you do anything else. \_Exeunf, R. 

Efiter Miss P. from rear, ift street costtnne. Lucile comes 
from L. at the same time ; starts toward her, saying. 

Lucile. Aunt Abigail, I thought you never would come 
home. Did you have a nice drive? I should think you and 
Mrs. Watson would talk each other to death. What do you 
find to say all the time ? 

Miss P. Plenty, plenty. We have many plans. 

Lucile. Oh, I don't doubt it; and do you know, I've 
guessed one of your plans, and I think it's lovely of you. 

Miss P. {visibly softening, a little bit perplexed). You've 
guessed one of my plans ! 

Lucile. Yes, about Europe. You're a dear to take me 
there again, and I knew yesterday when we were shopping and 
buying all those things that you were planning to take me 
abroad with you. That's perfectly splendid of you, Aunt Abi- 
gail, and just like you ; but you've always been so generous 
with me. Now, I appreciate this so much. But do you know. 
Aunt Abigail, I don't care to go right now. I've been once, 
and then you see in September I should like to do something 
different. 

Miss P. Thank goodness ! 

Lucile {unheeding). And I've wanted to ask you all day 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 3 1 

about it. You see, if I'm home all summer it's about two and 
a half months till the first of September, and that's quite a 
while, and then I want 

Miss P. That's all right. I'm perfectly willing, and I'm 
glad to see you have some sense. It suits me perfectly. 

LuciLE. But, Aunt Abigail, you don't understand 

Miss P. I do, perfectly. 

LuciLE. Oh, no, I'm afraid 



Miss P. Oh, yes, I do, my dear, and 

(Mary appears at L.) 

Mary. Miss Persons, what do you think has happened ? 

(LuciLE stands behind Miss P. and motions wildly for 
Mary to hush. Mary comprehends.') 

Miss P. I don't know. 

Mary. Martin Henry has a heart attack. 

Miss P. Well, never mind if he has ; he will get over it. 
Is everything ready for the bazaar, that is, everything we have 
to get ready? Because it is going on now. The Watson 
yard is full of people. They'll be out here next. 

Mary. Yes. 

Miss P. Very well, then I will come in. You coming, 
Lucile? Get off that cap and apron and go out and see 
people, or they'll be here and see you. \_Exit. 

Lucile. Yes, in just a moment. 

{Tiirfis away. Sees Art. coming with gypsies from r. 
Art. pauses near entrance ; he has been carrying the 
clothes.) 

Art. There is the young lady now. She is probably wait- 
ing for you. 

(^Gypsies pick up basket and move sloivly on toward Lucile.) 

Lucile. I am so glad you got my message, because those 
are not the clothes I meant at all. I hope you had not gone 
far. 

First Gypsy. Not far, lady. 

Second Gypsy. No, lady, not far. 

First Gypsy. Lady, I tell you you have big surprise — did 
I not ? You see — let me read stars for you ; past, present, and 
future. 



32 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

LuciLE. Nonsense, I don't believe in any such stuif. You 
had better go now. You will find that walk the most con- 
venient, I think. {Points r.) 

Second Gypsy. And you give us no clothes ? 

LuciLE. I have changed my mind. 

Second Gypsy. Bad luck to change one's mind. You 
better think twice. 

(Jack and Dick, assisted by several others, are carrying out 
camp chairs and placing them in close semicircle on either 
side of the stage so as to leave an open space ; as Lucile 
looks around questioninglyy Jack says.) 

Jack. We are carrying these chairs out here because some 
part of the program, some stunt, I don't know just what, is to 
be here. {Sees gypsies.) Who are they? Part of the show? 
Good ! I'm glad there's to be a fortune-teller. 

{They go out and pass in and out with more chairs.) 

Lucile {suddenly struck with an inspiration). Yes, that's 
what they are. 

Second Gypsy. Lady, you ever see this letter ? 

Lucile {looking at letter and starting). Miss Lucile Per- 
sons. 

Second Gypsy. You know her ? 

Lucile {off her guard). Yes, give it to me. 

Second Gypsy. For one nice dress — you like this note — I 
like one nice dress. 

First Gypsy {rather threateningly). And I, too. 

Jack {ivho has e filer ed with a chair). Say, there, the place 
for tlie fortune-teller is out here on the other side of the Wat- 
sons' house ; they told me to tell you. 

Lucile. All right. {Quickly, to gypsies.) You give me 
the note and I will give you some clothes. You give me some 
too. I like that dress of yours; will you change? 

First Gypsy. Thank you, lady. 

Second Gypsy. Give me one nice dress, I give you this 
letter. 

Lucile, Come this way then. 

{Goes to back them off l. Jack and Dick come forward.) 

Jack. Well, it's the limit that Ted has the mumps. I be- 
lieve you're getting them, you look like it. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 33 

Dick. I am not. 

Enter Miss P. and Mrs. W., l. 

Miss P. Let us get out here and get good seats. I want to 
see the program of stunts. I haven't bought much at the 
bazaar yet, have you ? 

Mrs. W. Not much, but we have plenty of time. It is to 
last all evening, and they are going to serve supper after this ; 
you'll have plenty of time. 

{They go and seat themselves R., near front of stage. Jack 
and Dick come near front. A number of people stroll in 
and seat themselves.') 

Jack. Say, get away from me, will you ? I'm waiting for 
some one. 

Dick. So am I. 

Jack. Go over that way, will you ? 

Dick {seeing Jane enter). Certainly. 

{Goes toward her. The chairs are by this time nearly 
filled.) 

Jack. Now, where is she? {Sees Mabel and goes to her.) 

Miss P. {to Mrs. W.). Well, this is slow. I certainly like 
to have things begin on time. I believe in that, and here this 
is late. Do you suppose people are going to keep on their hats 
too ? What is this to be, anyway ? 

Mrs. W. Oh, it is to be just a little song — some kind of 
Indian stunt, the girls said. They gave it at the school, and 
some one asked them to give it here, so they thought they 
would seat some of the crowd and repeat it at various times 
during the evening. It's very short. 

Miss P. I wish they would begin. It's tiresome waiting for 
a thing of this kind. 

Mrs. W. They are beginning now. 

{Dance and song interpolated here. After song is over the 
crotud gradually disperse.) 

Miss P. That was pretty good. But it's a great idea to 
move us around this way. I suppose we have to go to another 

part of llie grounds. 
Mrs. W. Yes. 
Miss P. Come on. 



34 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 



{Every one gradually leaves and Lucile comes forward. 
She is dressed like a gypsy.) 

Lucile. Finally I got those gypsies off and I'm going to be 
a fortune-teller. What a time 1 had getting those clothes and 
the note. That's very strange. I can't understand it. (^Looks 
at it.) It's written to me. {Reads.) " My dear Lucile." 

{/ust then Jack a7id Mabel /^j-j her.) 

Jack {to Mabel). You know, liUcile, you must tell me 
about what happened this afternoon. {Sees Lucile; says to 
her.) The tent for the fortune-teller is on the other side of the 
Watson house, if you've just come. 

Lucile. Thank, you. {They go l. ; sarcastically.) Evi- 
dently Mr. Watson has found Miss Persons. {Sees Dick and 
Jane passing across.) And there's another of a similar case. 
Now, when that vegetable boy comes back and asks for Miss 
Persons, the circle will be complete. {Looks at letter again. 
Starts reading.) '* My dear Lucile : — Was busy this morning 
and couldn't see you, and I can't be on hand to-night either. 
Have to go to the farm, just as I expected. But 1 know you 
will understand. Everything will be shaped around by to- 
morrow morning, and I'll have the day free ; then we can tell 
everybody and have a general rejoicing. Arthur Watson." 
If anybody wrote me such a cold-blooded businesslike letter I'd 
give it back to him. {Musingly.) Tell everybody. {Des- 
perately.) This gets thicker and thicker all the time. Every 
one of my schemes fails or is silly. I'm going in and take off 
these foolish things. I'm sick of it all. 

(Art. comes briskly from r. Stops abruptly.) 

Art. Hello ! You here ? Didn't you get the clothes ? 

Lucile {faintly). Yes. 

Art. I beg pardon — you're not one of the real gypsies. 
You just belong here with the bazaar. 

Lucile. I'm very real. 

Art. No doubt you are, and no doubt I know you when' 
you are not masquerading. Tell me, have you seen Lucile 
Persons anywhere ? 

Lucile. I saw her not long ago. 

Art. Here ? 

Lucile. Yes ; she sent me to do an errand for her. I was 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 35 

just going to do it. She wanted me to find Arthur Watson for 
her. 

Art. I'll find him for you. When did you want to meet 
him ? 

LuciLE. She wanted him to have this note. Will you take 
it to him ? 

Art. {taking note ; is puzzled and surprised as he sees it is 
his note,') My note ! No message — ^just this ? 

LuciLE. Yes ; she does not understand the note, and so re- 
turns it. He may have more use for it than she has. 

Art. Oh, very well. {Turns slowly away. Meets 
Martin rushifig in from l.) Gently, Martin Henry. I've 
just had one shock. Don't give me another. \^Exit. 

Martin {rushifig up attd grasping Lucile). Now, then, 
I've caught you. Where is my chicken ? Give it to me. 

LuciLK {pulling off her scarf). Martin Henry, don't be a 
goose. This is Lucile. 

Martin. The Lord love ye, are ye clear crazy ? 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — The same place, the same evening, iivo hours later y 
about p P, M. Martin, seated in a wheelbarroiv sur- 
rounded by all the boys, some standing, some seated on the 
ground. 

Dick. Tell us again, Martin Henry, how did it happen? 
Did the gypsies steal all your chickens ? 

Martin. Only one. 

Dick. Only one ! 

Martin. My best one. 

Dick. But you got it back ? 

Martin. You can depend upon it, I got it back. When I 
lay out to get a thing, I get it. 

Jack. What did you do, Martin, tomahawk the gypsies? 
I heard that you went tearing down Main Street waving a 
hatchet. (Ail laugh and say, " That's what we heard.'') 

Martin. I went after them. 

Jack. Did you catch them ? 

Martin. No. 

Jack. Yet you got your chicken ? 

Martin. Didn't I tell you I got the chicken? 

Jack. But how did you get it? 

Martin. By this here new science — mental science, I guess 
you call it. 

. ' !■ What ! {^General laughter.') 

Martin. Yep. I used mental science on her, and she come 
home. I just kept thinking of that chicken and saying, " You 
come back," and she come. 

Jack. Then you didn't boldly assault the gypsies and take 
your chicken by main force ? Alas ! my dream of you, Martin 
Henry, vanishes. 

Dick. Did they take anything else beside the chicken ? 

Martin. Not much ! Jest some of them girls' dresses, a 
basketful, I think. 

Jack. That's good. Not much ! 

Dick. But they got them back, too, didn't they? 

Martin. Yep. 

36 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 37 

Jack. By mental science ? 

Martin. I don't know. I never was one to meddle with 
things that didn't concern me. 

All. Oh! 

Martin {leisurely rising). I'm in a hurry. You hadn't 
ought to bother me this way. {All laugh.) 

Jack. Don't let us delay you, Martin Henry. {Enter 
Ted suddenly; he has a plai7ily developed case of mumps.) 
For heaven's sake ! Get out of here ! You are getting en- 
tirely too generous with your society. Now go and see if you 
can't lose yourself somewhere. 

All. Yes, go ! Get out ! 

Ted. I want to tell 

Jack. Come on, let's go and leave him. 

All. That's it — let's leave him. 

{General exit of all but Martin and Ted.) 

Martin {to Ted). Do you know if this is catching? 
Ted {nodding his head). Yes, they are. 
Martin. Then you keep away from my chickens. I can't 
run any risk with them. 

{Exit R., leisurely, leaving Ted amazed. Miss P. and 
Mabel cojtie from l.) 

Miss P. For mercy sake, Ted Patterson ! Go home and 
stay in. You have no business running around loose like this. 
The first thing you know you'll be real sick, and you'll have 
exposed everybody, although I suspect you've already done 
that some days ago. You do as I tell you. Go home, and 
I'll send the doctor over. 

Ted. Very well, Miss Persons. {Reluctantly goes R.) 

Mabel. Wasn't that Mr. Green, Miss Persons? 

Miss P. Mr. Green ! Why, no, that was Ted Patterson. 
What on earth made you think his name was Green ? 

Mabel. Some one told me that. There were two Mr. 
Greens, you know. 

Miss P. I don't know anybody around here named Green. 
Plenty that ought to be though. You've made a mistake. 

Mabel. I suppose I have, and yet I thought that was his 
name. 

Miss P. Well, it ain't. Are you going over to Mrs. Wat- 
son's with me? 



38 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Mabel. No, I'm going to wait here for Jane. 

Miss P. (^going l.). Very well. Tell Lucile I'll be back 
soon. 

Mabel. That's very odd that Mr. Watson should have said 
their names were Green, and Miss Persons says they're not. 
My, but she was positive ! (Jane enters l.) Oh, Jane, I'm 
glad you've come. What do you suppose I've found out ? 
Miss Persons says there are no Mr. Greens ; not anybody named 
Green around here. 

Jane. Well, what if there isn't? What difference does 
that make? 

Mabel. What difference ! That man you've been with so 
much was one that I was told was Mr. Green. 

Jane. The one that I've been with ? 

Mabel. Yes ; and then his brother — the short one who has 
the mumps now. 

Jane {more atid more amazed). The one that has been 
going about with me, as you call it, is — Arthur Watson. 

Mabel. Why, he isn't. 

Jane. He is. 

Mabel. Who told you ? 

Jane. No one; I just know. 

Mabel. The one that has been so nice to me is Arthur 
Watson . 

Jane. How do you know ? Who told you ? 

Mabel. No one. 

Jane. Then you don't know. 

Mabel. Neither do you. 

Jane. You're horrid to talk that way to me. 

Mabel. Well, you're horrid to me, too. 

Jane {almost crying), I don't mean to be horrid. Of 
course, he never said he was Arthur Watson. It was all on 
account of that crazy scheme of Lucile's that I thought of course 
he was and that you had met some one else, and you know you 
never mentioned his name ; you just told me what he said. 

Mabel. So did you. That's the way you acted. 

Jane. Aren't we geese? We don't know whom we've 
been with these last two days. 

Mabel. It's not our fault. It's Lucile's. 

Jane. Yes, it's Lucile's. 

Filter Martin. 
Mabel. Martin Henry. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 39 

Martin. Ma'am. 

Mabel. Tell us about Arthur Watson. 

Martin. What about him ? 

Mabel. How does he look? 

Martin. Don't know. 

Both. Don't know ! Don't you know him? 

Martin. Yep. 

Mabel. Then tell us about him. 

Martin. What for? 

Jane. So we'll know him. 

Martin. Don't you know him? 

Mabel. I'm afraid not. 

Martin. Glad to see you're improving. 

Mabel. Improving ? 

Martin. Yes, it's always a good sign when folks realize 
they don't know everything. 

Jane. Where is Arthur Watson now ? 

Martin. Tending to his farm, I s'pose. That's what he 
does most of the time, Miss — er 

Mabel. Jane. 

Jane. Mabel. 

Martin. Glad you know your own names. Now, last time 
you talked to me 'peared like you all thought you was Miss 
Lucile. Did you get mixed up on Arthur Watson — think 
everybody was he ? 

Mabel. That's just what we did. 

Jane. Who is the young man I thought was Arthur 
Watson ? 

Martin. Land ! How do I know ? You can ask more 
questions. 

Jane. You are exasperating, Martin Henry. 

Martin. Yes, ma'am. 

Mabel. There, quick ! There they come. Who are they ? 

Martin {slowly). Well, now, one's 

Jane. Hurry ! 

Martin. Can't. Affects my heart. 

Mabel. Who are they ? 

Martin. Ask them. 

Enter DiCK and Jack ; Martin exits L. 

Mabel (crossly). What's your name? 
Jane. Yes, tell me your name. 



40 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Mabel (Jo Jack). And why have you pretended to be 
Arthur Watson ? 

Jane {to Dick). And why have you pretended to be 
Arthur Watson ? 

Dick. I didn't say I was Arthur Watson. 

Jack. I didn't say I was Arthur Watson. 

Mabel {to Jack). If you didn't say you were Arthur Wat- 
son you let me think you were. I asked you if your hair was 
dark. 

Jack. Well, it is. 

Jane {to Dick). You could have told me, stupid, and not 
let me blunder around. 

Dick. Told you what? How did I know? I supposed 
you knew Arthur Watson, and that you wouldn't have to be 
told ; seven years isn't so very long for an intelligent person to 
remember some one. 

Mabel {to Jack). And you were medium tall. 

Jack. Well, what's that got to do with it ? I suppose I am 
medium tall, but that isn't against the law, is it? You make 
me tired. 

Mabel. You're the rudest person I ever knew. 

Jane. I think boys are too unreasonable for anything. 
Talk about girls being quarrelsome ! They can't compare 
with you. 

Dick. I can't for the life of me see what you're fussing 
about. 

Jane. No, I suppose you can't. You can't see anything, 
can you? 

Jack. Well, what's the matter with you both ? If any one 
is to be offended I ought to be. Just look how you treated me 
to-night. 

Mabel. Treated you to-night ! What do you mean ? 

Jack. I sent you word to meet me here, then I waited and 
waited around, and you came long afterward and never came 
to me at all. Of course, now everything's over doesn't 
count 

Dick {to Jane). Yes, and I did exactly the same thing, 
and you never came for the longest time. 

Mabel ) {together'). Whom did you send with your mes- 

Jane 3 sage ? 

Jack 1 (together). The maid. 
Mabel. What maid — Mary ? 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 4I 

Jack. No, that young one that was here this afternoon 
cooking or doing something — rather good-lookmg. 
Mabel. A maid ! 
Jane. A maid ! 
Mabel. That's Lucile Persons. 
Jane. Yes, that's Lucile. 

Dick \ {f'^S^^^^^^^- Then who are you? 

Mabel. Me ? 

Jane. Me? 

Mabel. I'm Mabel Johnson, of course. 

Jane. And I'm Jane Richmond, of course, stupid. 

Jack. Why did you make me think you were Lucile 
Persons ? 

Mabel. I didn't. 

Jack. You did. 

Dick. You let me think you were Lucile Persons. 

Jane. Well, it's your own fault. Why didn't you remem- 
ber how Lucile looked ? 

Dick. It's been seven years since I saw her. 

Jane. Any intelligent person could remember seven years. 

Mabel {taking off f rat pin ; handing it to Jack). Here, 
this pin of yours is making holes in my dress. You can just 
take it back. 

Jane {to Dick). Yes, and here's yours. I don't think it's 
pretty, anyhow. And, Mabel, let's go in. I was never so 
disgusted in my life. 

Dick. Neither was I. 

Mabel. I hope you're both satisfied with the trouble you've 
made. \_Exeunt, l. 

Jack {watching them out of sight). This is a great old 
stunt. I wish Arthur Watson and his grand schemes had all 
evaporated before we saw him — all we have done is to let him 
work us and make monkeys of us — now here is where we take 
command and fix him. 

Dick. How ? 

Jack. Just you watch your uncle get busy. 

Dick. What are you going to do ? 

Jack. Do ! You just watch, — we'll turn the tables on him. 
I'm going to circulate the nicest little story about him. 

Dick. You mean you are going to make up some yarn and 
tell it about him ? 

Jack. No, indeed. I'm merely going to suggest a few ideas 



42 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

to our friends and let them do the making up of yarns — sug- 
gestion is the highest art. Now, here's a good chance. Here 
comes Martin Henry back. {Reenter Martin, l. Jack goes 
tip to Martin.) Nice night, isn't it? Just right for the 
elopement, don't you think ? They will be able to get away 
in great shape. 

Martin. Who ? 

Jack {in great surprise). Do you mean to tell me you 
don't know ? Didn't Arthur tell you ? 

Martin. Nope. Tell me what ? 

Jack. Strange ! I supposed he told you to bring the step- 
ladder out 

Martin. Does he want the step-ladder ? 

Jack. It would be necessary, I think, for an elopement. 

Martin. Hadn't I better stop this elopement ? 

Jack. Heavens, no, Martin Henry ! We must urge this 
on. It must not be stopped. Get the step-ladder. Hurry! 

Martin. Can't hurry, but I'll get the step-ladder. Now, 
who on earth is going to elope ? \_Exitf L. 

Jack {to Dick). " The game's afoot." 

Dick. I don't see. 

Jack. No, but you will. Ah ! here comes some more. 
{Two couples now enter talking to each other. Jack ap- 
proaches them.) Say, I want to tell you something. You 
better go on the other side of the garden and keep people away 
from here for the next hour. 

First Girl. Why on earth? Jack, you act just like a 
policeman. 

Jack. Well, I'm not, but I'm being a little brother to the 
elopers we have amongst us. 

All. Elopement ! Who ? When ? Where ? 

Jack. Sh ! Not so loud. Arthur wouldn't like to have it 
get out. 

First Girl. Oh, is it Arthur? How romantic! What 
are you and Dick doing ? 

Dick. We are arranging the details. You see it is neces- 
sary that this things go off smoothly. 

First Girl. Oh, yes. 

Jack. Now tell every one to keep away from here. Or if 
you come this way, don't let any one see you. 

First Girl. Why couldn't some of us hide behind the 
wall? 

All. Yes ! That's it ! 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 43 

Jack. Well, no one must see you, and of course, we must 
be quiet. You won't need to hide for some time yet. 

First Girl. Come on, let's get some more. I want to see 
this. {All exeunt.) 

Dick. Say, you're a great mixer. What have you started ? 

Jack. I don't know. I just begin and the ideas flock to 
me, my son. You can never tell to what height of hilarity I 
shall soar. And now he deserves whatever happens. He got 
up this crazy scheme. 

Dick. Yes, he did ; just planned it out and played us for 
easy marks. 

Jack. That's what he did. 

Art. {coming hi l.). That's what who did? 

Dick } C"^^'^"-)- ^ou. 

Art. I ? 

Jack. Yes, you with your foolishness about having us take 
Lucile in. I've heard of crazy schemes, but this reaches the 
high water mark — ^just made geese out of us, that's what you 
did. 

Art. You didn't have to do it, remember. 

Dick. That's it, blame it onto us. Say we suggested it — 
urged you on and finally you yielded to our clamorous en- 
treaties. 

Jack {sarcastically). It has worked like a charm, hasn't it? 

Art. Hasn't it worked ? 

Dick. Oh, yes, it has worked. Here we've just had a 
lovely artistic fight with two young ladies. 

Jack. But we've borne up under it, and we're interested in 
the elopement to-night 

Art. Elopement ! 

Jack. Yes; didn't Martin Henry tell you to bring that 
suit-case out here at ten o'clock ? 

Art. You don't mean old Martin Henry's eloping ! Who 
with? {Roars with laughter.) 

Jack. Now how on earth should I know ? I supposed you 
had helped him plan it. You bring the suit-case out here at 
ten and leave it by the step-ladder. 

Art. Why step-ladder ? 

Jack. How do I know ? 

Dick. Can't you do what you're told ? That's what I'm 
doing. 

Art. Of course I can. Where do I find the suit-case? 



44 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Jack (Jo Dick). You know where the measly suit-case is. 
You take Arthur with you and see that he gets it. 
Dick. All right. {Boih exeunt r.) 
Jack. Hurrah ! He'll wish he'd never got up any schemes ! 

Enter Martin with step-ladder, l. 

Martin. Now who on earth is eloping ? I never heard of 
so many crazy things happening. I'm glad my chickens are 
locked up ; reckon this would be a good place for the step- 
ladder. (Places it c. Does not see Jack. Exits.) 

Jack. I just intend to stay here and be friendly with every 
one that comes along, then we'll see what happens. 

( Crowd comes back. First Girl speaks.") 

First Girl. We've got this many. Can't we hide now? 
Jack. Hide if you want to. There's no knowing what will 
happen here to-night. But keep still whatever you do. 
All. Oh, we will ! 

(Jack keeps them behind wall at c. back, and stays back 
there himself part of the time. Mrs. W. comes from L., 
following Art., who has a suit-case.) 

Mrs. W. Whose suit-case is that, Arthur ? 

Art. Er — Martin Henry's, I believe. 

Mrs. W. Martin Henry never had a suit-case in his life. 

Art. Then he has borrowed it. 

Mrs. W. Probably that's it. Of course it's none of my 
business how many suit-cases he has. Arthur, I've been won- 
dering and waiting these last two days to ask you about Lucile. 
How do you like her? {Very timidly.) 

Art. I like her well enough. I mean I did. I don't like 
her now. She has an abominable temper just like her Aunt 
Abigail. 

Mrs. W. Arthur, I can't tolerate you saying that. Miss 
Abigail has been my very best friend for many years, and her 
excellencies of character are many, and it really is not like my 
son to talk this way. 

Art. I beg your pardon, I'm sure. But Lucile was nice 
to me at first, and though I really didn't intend to pay her any 
attention, I thought she was great, but I don't like her now, 
she's not dependable. She's got a bad disposition. She's 
quarrelsome 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 



45 



Mrs. W. Now, really, Arthur, you don't act exactly as if 
you were an angel yourself. I'm sorry to see you suddenly so 
cross grained. Your good nature has always been one of your 
most attractive qualities. 

Art. No doubt you are right, and I'm a beast. But if you 
see Miss Abigail you can tell her that that neat httle mathemat- 
ical diagram of hers — get engaged by Wednesday, married by 
September first, wasn't it? — won't work. Tell her, too, that 
there are some problems that can't be worked out by mathe- 
matics. Tell her — I hope it shocks her — tell her the only girl 
I've seen that I liked is her new maid. (^Exit r. with suit- 
case. Aside.) How can I get rid of this suit- case ? 

(Jack comes forward to Mrs. W., who stands sorrowfully 
ate.) 

Jack. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Watson, I don't want you 
to mind Arthur. You know he's a little excited on account of 
the elopement here to-night. 

Mrs. W. Elopement ! 

Jack. Yes; about ten o'clock, and we want to keep the 
place clear of people. 

Mrs. W. Was that why Arthur had a suit-case that he said 
was Martin Henry's ? ( Worried.) 

Jack. Well, now, Mrs. Watson, don't worry. This is going 
to be all right, I know. And one thing I know, Mrs. Watson, 
Arthur likes Lucile Persons. 

Mrs. W. Thank you, Jack, you're a comfort. Now — let 
me see — ten o'clock 

Jack. Yes, ten o'clock. (Mrs. W. exits r.) Neat work, 
that. 

Enter Dick, r. 

Dick. Say, Jack, I've just told Marie that there was to be 
an elopement here at ten o'clock. I'm helping the good work 
along. 

Jack. Hush, not so loud ! (^Points to wall. Some of the 
people rise up behind the ivall. All talk a little. Then Jack 
says.) All you people get down. Here comes Miss Abigail. 

{^He and Dick retire discreetly by wall. Miss P. enters 
first, attended by Marie.) 



46 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Marie. Miss Persons, have you seen Martin Henry ? Do 
you know they say he is going to elope to-night at ten o'clock? 

Miss P. Elope ! Impossible ! Have you taken leave of 
your senses ? Flave you seen Arthur Watson ? 

Marie. No, and I don't want to see him. He is so rude 
and impolite. 

Miss P. Indeed ! 

Marie. Yes, he is. I think it's a fine thing Lucile doesn't 
like him, for he would make her so unhappy, and 1 think it is 
simply splendid anyway that Lucile is going to take a position 
and teach Household Arts. She is so pleased that you are 
willing. Miss Persons. Oh, I wish I was clever and smart. I 
couldn't do anything like that at all. But Lucile will so rejoice 
to be independent. Just see how she will glory in her career. 
You see she never wants to marry, so she can devote herself to 
her profession. 

Miss P. {who has been recovering from her amazement and 
is growing angry). Her career ! Her profession ! What on 
earth are you talking about ? 

Marie. You know Lucile wants to teach household arts. 
She has taken all kinds of courses these last few years, and you 
told her she could take a position the first of September. 

Miss P. I didn't. 

Marie. Lucile thinks you did. 

Miss P. {ahiiost beside herself). Lucile is too independent. 

Marie (aside). She's like her aunt. It's easy to see she's 
Aunt Abigail's own niece. {To Miss P.) I'm sure she thinks 
you said she might, because she told all of us girls about it, 
and was so pleased that you agreed to her plan so readily. 

Miss P. Well, I never agreed. I never said such a thing. 
She has entirely misunderstood me. I never saw such a condi- 
tion of affairs. Now, there is that Arthur Watson. What is 
he doing with a suit-case ? (Art., suddenly appearing, tries to 
hide suitcase.) What are you doing with that suit-case? 

Art. {greatly embarrassed by the presence of Marie, whom 
he imagines to be Lucile). Why — er — well — er — you see 

Miss P. Don't stutter when you speak to me, young man. 
Why don't you answer me? 

Art. Er — er — you see I don't want Lucile to hear. 

Miss P. You must think she has sharp ears to hear you 
talking about her out here. 

Art. Well, she isn't deaf, is she? 

Miss P. {indignantly). No ! 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 47 

Art. (Jo Marie). Then you can't hear me, Lucile, can't 
you? 

Marie {in much confusion). I — er — I can 

Miss P. You can't see, either, along with not being able to 
speak distinctly. This isn't Lucile. 

Art. Why, it — i-isn'tit? 

Miss P. {with dignity). I have often heard, Arthur Wat- 
son, that the young people of to-day were disrespectful to their 
elders, but I have never had it so forcibly demonstrated as just 
now, when I am told that I do not know my own niece. 

Art. Oh, come now. Miss Persons, I didn't mean that. 

Miss P. But you said it. 

Art. But you misinterpreted my meaning — 1 have just 
thought that this — girl was Lucile. Of course, I may be 
wrong. 

Miss P. Of course you're wrong. I am glad to see you 
have a little sense, though. This is Marie Edmunds. 

Art. And I thought all the time that she was Lucile. I 
beg your pardon. Miss Edmunds. {To Miss P.) I believe 
you said that was the name ? 

Miss P. I certainly did. How does it come that you 
don't know Lucile? 

Marie. Perhaps I can throw some light on it. Lucile had 
the silliest scheme for all us girls to let on we were Lucile and 
take Mr. Watson in. She thought it would be great sport. I 
think it has been stupid. It has just served to bring out the 
mean traits in some persons' character. I am going in, Mr. 
Watson, so you need be no longer embarrassed by my pres- 
ence, and Pm going home to-morrow, too, so don't worry. 

(Starts L., haughtily.) 

Art. You were well coached for the part. Just think of 
all you remembered. 

Marie. You're horrid ! {Stamps her foot.) And, Miss 
Persons, he didn't tell you why he had the suit-case, but I be- 
lieve it is because he is the one who is eloping at ten o'clock. 

\^Exitf L. 

Miss P. {who has sunk down upon a bench). Well, I never ! 
Worse and more of it ! 

( Great excitement by all the people ivho have bobbed up be- 
hind the wall; laughter by Jack and Dick.) 



48 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

Art. I'm awfully sorry, Miss Persons, but you see every- 
thing seems to be tangled up. I can't tell you how I liked 
Lucile because I'm not sure who is Lucile, and evidently she 
doesn't care for me, or she wouldn't have plotted against me 
so. Any one that gets up a scheme of that kind I should con- 
sider exceedingly ingenious — yes, exceedingly ingenious, but 
needing to be watched ! That new maid of yours is the nicest 
girl I've seen around here. I don't care much for this house 
party. I suppose you're shocked, but she seems to have some 
sense and is good-looking, too. 

Miss P. I have no maid but Mary, and you have known 
her for years. My new maid, as you call her, is Lucile. 

Art. {amazed^. Lucile! Lucile! 

Miss P. You're getting deaf, too, along with your other 
infirmities. Lucile. 

Art. {darting hastily out L.). Me for Lucile. 

Miss P. I'm so exhausted. I don't know what to do. 
That Marie Edmunds strikes me as being a mischief-maker. 
Well, I give up. 

{She remains seated on the bench when Martin appears 
from R. and goes toward Dick and Jack.) 

Martin. You take my advice and go and make up with 
them girls. Yep, go right along. I don't believe in harborin* 
ill feelings against any one. I tell you women and chickens 
have to be handled carefully. Like as not they're waitin' for 
you. Come to think of it one of them told me to tell you to 
hurry up ; that they were waiting on the porch for you. 

Jack. She did not, Martin Henry; you're just making 
that up. 

Martin. No, I'm not. Go 'long with both of you. The 
one with kind of reddish hair looked like she felt awful bad. 

[Exeunt Dick and Jack, l. 

Miss P. Martin Henry, you seem to be managing things 
for those young people. 

Martin. I couldn't call it managin' ; I just used a little 
philosophy on them ; that's what you need with young folks 
and chickens — a little philosophy. 

Miss P. Well, I admit you need something. Martin Henry, 
what's that step-ladder doing there? 

Martin. Arthur wants it there for the elopement, I guess. 
He was giving orders to that effect. 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 49 

Miss P. Elopement ! Is every one crazy about an elope- 
ment? Is Arthur eloping? 

Martin. I suppose so — at ten o'clock to-night. 

Miss P. Then I'm going to see his mother. [Exii, r. 

Martin. Now what's going to happen? I reckon them 
gypsies was all the trouble my sign meant. 

Crowd {rising and calling). Come here, Martin Henry. 
Come here. 

Martin. All right. I'm comin'. 

Enter Mabel and ^ack from l. 

Mabel. Well, I'll take your pin back. I'm rather lone- 
some without it, and anyhow quarrels are silly. Do tell me 
about the elopement. 

Jack. That's the idea. Glad to hear you so reasonable. 

{A group of people spring up behind the hedge,) 

Mabel. Oh, there's Nell. Come on, let's go and speak to 
her. I suppose they are here to watch it, too. 

Enter Jane and Dick from L. 

Jane. I'm sorry you were mad at me, but let's forget all 
about it. Of course I think this pin is pretty, and just think 
of Arthur eloping. Won't we have fun ! 

Dick. Sure it will be great, and I am so glad you're not 
angry with me. 

Jack. Come, we must all get over behind the wall. I de- 
clare it's just about ten. (Looks at watch.) You girls go back 
there. 

{People rise from behind the hedge and say, " Yes, come on.") 

Dick {to Jack). How's your scheme? What's going to 
happen ? 

Jack. Can't tell. Something or nothing. Still Arthur 
ought to be back with that suit-case. Oh, here comes Lucile. 
Hurry. ( They go behind the wall.) 

Enter Lucile. Sees the ladder ; drags it do7vn near cen- 
tre of sfai^e. 

Lucile. Now, what is the step-ladder doing out here ? I 
declare people are so careless, and I wonder where every one is ? 



50 ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 

I wish 1 could see Arthur Watson. I would just tell him what 
I think of him. I would say, ''Mr. Watson, when you can be 
so nice and agreeable why have you acted this way? " 

Art. {who has entered while she was ialkitig and come tip 
to her ^ the step ladder between theni). Acted what way, 
Lucile ? 

LuciLE {in great excitement, clitnbing two or three steps up 
on the ladder'). You really know me? Where are you going 
with that suit-case ? 

Art. One question at a time. Yes, I really know you — 
now — it's about time, isn't it? You must like to play jokes on 
people, the way you schemed so I shouldn't know you. 

Lucile. But you weren't very anxious to see me, were you? 

Art. Now, I've done the best I could. I thought you 
were the maid, but I told your aunt that you were the nicest 
girl I'd seen for a long time. 

Lucile. Oh, did you ? Well, you know I thought you 
were a nice vegetable boy, too. 

Art. I was really pleased when you talked to me about my 
education. 

Lucile. You haven't told me about the suit-case. 

Art. Why, you see the fellows told me Martin Henry was 
going to elope, and wanted me to bring out the suit-case. 

Lucile. Elope ! Martin Henry ! How funny ! Let me 
see that suit-case — it looks like one of ours. 

{Great excitement off stage. Miss P. screamingy ^^ I tell 
you it is so,'' leads in Mrs. W.) 

Miss P. There they are. There he is, Mrs. Watson. Now 
you see I was right. I just wish I could have brought up a 
boy. I'd have trained him better than you have yours. 

Mrs. W. That's Lucile with him. 

Jack. Yes, that's he. Miss Persons. Come on, people, 
come and see the elopement. 

{Everybody comes frotn behind the wall and stands in a civ' 
cle and laughs. Lucile and Art. in the centre.) 

Miss P. What are all you people doing here ? And what 
are you doing, Lucile? 

Lucile. Well, I was taking the step-ladder in, and I 
stopped to talk to Arthur. What is everybody so excited 
about ? 



ENGAGED BY WEDNESDAY 5 1 

Art. Yes, and where is your elopement ? 

Tack ^ 

Dick [ ^^^^Shing). There isn't any, Arthur, isn't any. 

Jack. Just a little scheme, old man, like one of yours, only 
tried on you. See ? 

LuciLE. You mean you were playing a joke on him ? 

Dick. Yes; because he got us to pretend to be Arthur 
Watson when you came. 

LuciLE [laughino;). Oh, did you ? How funny ! We al- 
ways did think alike, didn't we, Arthur? 

Jack {disgustedly). Well, if that isn't just like a girl. He's 
made a hit with her. 

Dick. Yes, you said Miss Persons and Mrs. Watson wanted 
you to get engaged by 

Miss P. Wednesday, but he has no energy. He has 
not tried. He has no initiative or aggressiveness. 

LuciLE. Oh, Aunt Abigail, don't talk about it here— 
besides 

Art. He hasn't had much chance until now, but if you 
people will kindly have Jack entertain you— get up another 
elopement or dance or any side-show he wishes — we'll do our 

best {Looks at watch.) There's still about two hours 

until Wednesday. Take the suit-case, Dick. Coming, Lucile ? 

LuciLE. Indeed I am. Good-bye. 

(^General consternation falls ofi the crozvd.) 

Dick. Took it all right. I believe we helped it along. 
Miss P. We'll sail by September first. 
Martin. Oh, my heart ! 



CURTAIN 



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HIGBEE OF HARVARD 
A Comedy Drama in Three Acts 

By Charles Townsend 
Five males, four females. Modern costumes ; scenes, two interiors and 
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Pricey i^ cents 

A REGIMENT OF TWO 

A Farcical Comedy in Three Acts 

£y Anthony E, Wills 
Six males, four females. Modern costumes. Scene, an interior, the same 
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Price, 23 cents 

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A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Harold A, Clarke 
Six males, five females. Scenery, two interiors ; costumes modern. 
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MISS BUZBY'S BOARDERS 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Arthur Lewis Tubbs 
Five male, six female characters. Costumes modern ; scenery, two easy 
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four call for strong acting. Several good character parts and effective 
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Price, ;?f cents 



New Plays 



THE COMEDY OF ERRORS 

A Comedy in Five Acts 

By Williatn Shakespeare 
Arranged for School Performance 

Thirteen male, three female characters. Costumes appropriate ; scenery 
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Price, 7 J cents 

FARO NELL 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Willis Steell 

Six male, one female characters. Costumes, Mexican and frontier ; 
scenery, a picturesque interior. Plays twenty minutes. A very effective 
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Price, 7j cents 

MOR^D ALICE 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Marion Roger Fawcett 

One male, two female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
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Price, i^ cents 

THE ALARM 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Marion Roger Fawcett 

Two male characters who double two other parts. Costumes modern ; 

scene, an easy interior. A very dramatic sketch for a man, with a situation 

of much power and pathos. Recommended. 

Price, IS cents 



New Plays 



LOST— A CHAPERON 

A Comedy in Three Acts 
By Courtney Bruerton and W. S. Maulsby 

Six male, nine female characters. Costumes modern ; scenery, an in- 
terior and an easy exterior. Plays a full evening. An excellent comedy 
with the true college atmosphere but with its scenes away from actual col- 
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This is sure to be liked by the young people for whom it is intended, and 
is strongly recommended for high-school performance. Price, 2^ cents. 

CHARACTERS 

George Higgins, a Tuffs A. B. . . . Ernest S. Swenson 

Jack Abbott, "^ Tuff s sub-freshmen, camp- Stanley M. Brown 

Fred Lawton, ) . mg with Higgins . . Arthur J. Anderson 

Raymond Fitzhenry, a Harvard student Arthur T. Hale 

Dick Norton, ) ^ , . „ ,^^,-^.,^, Ernest A. Larrabee 

Tom Crosby, | ''-^ ^"^^ engineers . . Ferdinand Bryham 
Marjorie Tyndall, George s cousin: a 

Smith girl Helen J. Martin 



Alice Bennett 
Agnes Arabella Bates, 
Ruth French, 
Blanche Westcott, 



Dorothy F. Entwistle 
^ , . , Edith H. Bradford 

Jackson girls Marjorie L. Henry 
Beatrice L. Davis 
Mrs. Higgins, the chaperon. George's 

mother. Effie M. Ritchie 

Mrs. Sparrow, a farmer s wife. [Not in the original cast.) 



MANDV,}^-''''"^^'^"- 



SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — The Girls' Camp at Sherwood, 7 A. M. 
Act II.— The Fellows' Camp at Sherwood, 8 A. M. 
Act III. — Same as Act I, 10 a. m. 

A BRIDE FROM HOME 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Willis Steell 
Two male, two female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an in- 
terior. Plays twenty minutes. A capital sketch of Hebrew life and 
character, combining good comedy with genuine pathos. Moves very 
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New Plays 



THE SILVER SPOON 

A Character Sketch in Four Parts 

By Joseph S. Jones 
Ten males, nine females. Costumes, modern ; scenery varied but not 
diflficult. Plays a full evening. A revised and reconstructed version of 
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is as fresh to-day as in its youth, and a revival would be full of interest. 
Pricey /J" cents. 

CHARACTERS 

Jefferson Scattering Bat- Miss Hannah Partridge. 

KINS, member of the General Sarah Austin. 

Court from Cranberry Centre. Abby Bacon, a girl from Cran- 
Glandon Ya^g, a yoimg gentle- berry Centre. 

man offort^me. Miss Asia Greenwood, a city 
Ezra Austin, a Boston joiner. belle. 

Col. Jerome Splendid Silk, Miss Nightingale (7e/zV>^5^;/f). 

a speculator. Mrs. Chauncey Shady. 

Simon Feedle. a lawyer. Miss Swallow. 

Tom Pinfeather. Miss Righting. 

Mr. Francis Perkins. Miss Bird, of ''The Saints Rest 
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Bite, a sheriff" s officer. Waiters, Dancers, Policemen, 

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LONDON ASSURANCE 

A Comedy in Five Acts 
By Dion L. Boucicault 
Ten males, three females. Costumes may be modern or of the period, 
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ends that it never grows old in effect. Strongly recommended for school 
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tains all the usual cuts, alterations, and «' gags." 
Price, 75 cents 

A SCRAP OF PAPER 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By J. Palgrave Simpson 
Six males, six females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays a full evening. The Boston Museum version of this delightful piece 
with all the usual cuts and "gags." A perfect play for practiced ama- 
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Price, J^ cents 



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PrlcCt SO 0etit$ 6acb 



MID-CHANNEL ^r ^"" ^"'"- ^'' "^'""' *^^" '""'=^^" 



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Plays two and a half hours. 

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males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

TlIF PRHFI ir'ATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
iriEi ri\v/rJLilVJ/\lEi female.^, scenery, three interiors, rather 
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TlIC CPUnnf n/ITCTDCCQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males. 
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THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY l!g,'",S£,'m-; 

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QWFTT T AVFlSinFR Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
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A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE 'i^^^,^^^J^. 

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